Tired

I’m tired of censoring myself, of thinking of things to say but being too shy to let the words out, even now.

I’m tired of being deeply closeted about the neurodiversity of my brain.

My feathers are ruffled from being hidden so long, they long to stretch and soar.

I’m tired of trying hard to act like I’m not trying hard.

I’m tired of prioritizing everybody else above myself.

I’m tired of not giving myself time to read library books before they are due.

I’m tired of knowing what changes to make to improve my nutrition and yet changing nothing, as processed foods pour into my body daily, depleting my health in ways both seen and unseen.

I’m tired of feeling like I look even more tired than I feel.

I’m tired of my old habit of smiling constantly so that other people won’t feel threatened by me.

I’m tired of taking other people’s shit.

I’m tired of listening without returning the favor of speaking.

I know the road is both long and short, but I want it to be more joyful and less exhausting.

I’m ready to change my life because if I don’t, no one will do it for me.

The calvary may not be coming, but at last my self love has come along.

May I blaze a new trail in considering my own wants and needs, gathering energy with each step.

Anxiety, Again

It happened again.

Anxiety wrapped me up so tightly I must untangle myself with scribbles that you are kind enough to read.

Socializing leaves me aching with regret for the words I said wrong and the words I didn’t say.

I feel like a failure, even though I know that is a harsh conclusion, I feel it still.

I feel inept, like no matter what I do I won’t ever feel comfortable in social situations.

Even though I have undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder, as is more common in females. Even though I have worked painfully hard to hide my differentness, my social awkwardness rarely stays below ground for long.

In the game of whac-a-mole, the moles keep popping up no matter how many I whack.

Self-love, self-compassion, forgiveness, humor, perspective, reassurance that I belong in this human family, in this world, that I am enough, that I am worthy of love, as we all are: these are the treasures I have gathered along my journey.

These are the treasures I hope you find and cherish as well. They must be carefully cultivated, nourished and loved.

May you feel nourished and loved.

May you rest on the shores of peace.

Inhale what you need. Exhale what is no longer serving you.

All is well, even when we are under cloud cover, the clear sky remains above all.

For the duration of my whole life, the sun has never stopped shining- there were only times that I couldn’t see it.

The moon is a reminder of what I don’t see.

Maybe everybody feels this way sometimes, and it is normal and ok.

May I remember that I am blessed beyond measure even during the uncomfortable moments of this human journey.

Storms will rise, then pass.

May my breath be my anchor to weather me through until I see the sky of blue again.

Radical Self Compassion

Feels like breathing after being under water my whole life

Imagine if I extended a helping hand to myself the way I do everyone else

What would it feel like if I gave myself forgiveness, compassion and understanding

Good

I no longer strive to be labeled as ‘good’ by others

Like a trained fucking dog

I don’t want to act sweet

When I feel salty and bitter

I never wanted to fit into a box

Or stay between the lines

I don’t even belong indoors

I am a wild, free woman

If that means I’m not the angel you thought I was

Then light up the fire and brimstone

Too long have I carried the burden of trying to save the world while looking cute and put-together

Always satisfying other’s needs like plugging holes in a dam and I’m about to burst

I tremble and ache to let go of the many ropes which bind me

So many roles to play and expectations to meet

No wonder I have no time or energy left for me

I am the only person I can save, and my liberation doesn’t require fake smiles or insincere social pleasantries

To live my best life

I must aspire to be more than simply good

I must liberate myself from the ribbon I am wrapped up in

Rip off the docile doll’s dress and burn it,

Warming my hands and illuminating my night

I must feel my body and ride the waves of my emotions with shuddering ecstasy

You want me to be good

But I want to be better

Sleep Talking

Long ago and far away

On a bus grinding through the night

The air thick with sweat and grime

All we had was time

Beer and ice cream on my lips

Bitterness and liquor on his

The man next to me said that I was afraid of talking in my sleep

He overstepped the boundary that I failed to establish between us

Sometimes when I wake up alone, I wonder if my lover heard me sleep-talking and left me to wallow in my past

I want to tell him the truth about my life, but I fear that he would stop loving me,

or worse- rehash it endless times and tell his religious family who would judge me as a hell-bound, lying, baby-killing whore

They’d be right, in a sense

I have exchanged sex for money and I’ve had 3 abortions, each one horrible in its own way, but not as bad as being stuck in an abusive, disempowering situation

Judge not, motherfuckers

I don’t want any man to judge the decisions I’ve made about my body

Least of all a man who is financially dependent on my career: a profession which swallowed my fetuses whole

My past is nobody’s business but my own

I don’t want to be given a hard time for the hard times I’ve already been through

I’m trying to heal and move on

I’m trying to meet myself with compassion for the trauma I’ve endured

I am strong and tough and vulnerable and delicate

My dark secrets are at once more innocent and scandalous than my jealous partners imagine

I didn’t want to be pregnant anymore so I stopped being pregnant

You weren’t supporting me by being broke and leaving me shamefully unmarried

I didn’t want to spend the weekend with you so I didn’t

I regret the weekend away because the other men treated me both better and worse than you, but I love you- painfully clear now that the hormonal storm of pregnancy has simmered down

Why do I set myself up for drama and disaster? I’m trying to heal but your rehashing of the past dredges up emotional detritus, dragging me back

My old stress addiction dies hard

I clamp my jaw

My teeth grind like a bus in the night

I pray that I didn’t sleep talk last night

Blue Glass

I am not OK

I’ve spent a life time lying,

Sticking to the script, saying that I’m fine

I learned as a child to be truthless

Because honesty only got me neglectful rejection

And beat-downs, ruthless

I was trained to be out of touch with my feelings

For a decades, I’ve been reeling

Coming home to my body, battered and bruised

Healing deep emotional wounds

In my family, failure was not an option

I prayed, even as an adult, for adoption

Periodically I stumble through patches of suicidal ideation

Homicidal visions to destroy all of creation

Just to find peace

Do you know what I mean?

I make ends meet, though I’ve stolen and cheated

Swimming upstream, never defeated

I don’t trust anyone with the truth about my life

I don’t want to rehash it, don’t want to unravel it

As a teenager, I used to beat off to Gravel Pit

I am not Ok, and I am Ok with that

I should probably ‘get help’, but the thing about people

Is that they make me uneasy

Can you blame me?

You can shame me, but whatever you are thinking,

I’m sure I’ve done worse

I seem Ok, like a high-functioning addict

Storing up empty bottles in my attic

Just to see sunlight shine through blue glass

Behold the beauty of my realized potential at last

Our Mother’s Face

We thought we could improve perfection, Mama

When we drew lines across your face

Highways of asphalt scars connecting the

Clusters of concrete wounds on your cheeks

High rise buildings offering every luxury but you, Mama

We dig into you without asking, Mama, pounding into your bedrock

Even as you gently rock us to sleep each night, as if our actions are alright

We are the ones who refuse to turn out the lights

We don’t hear your wisdom, Mama, which you sing softly even now

We boast loudly but when do we listen, Mama?

We are shaken to the bone when we drill into you, Mama

Between fracking and petroleum, our hearts are in pandemonium

We make ourselves ill when we poison your blood

Dumping debris into your waters

We choke as we pollute your lungs

Pouring smoke into your atmosphere

We share a single circulatory and respiratory system with you, Mama

Our shortsighted deeds will always come back to haunt us in spades

We drink from your abundant cup, rarely satisfied that we have enough

We pretend to be separate from you even as we depend on you for our every breath, from birth to death

We think we know best but we haven’t fooled the rest, only ourselves

We act big, but we are dust on your mighty shoulders, Mama

Our mother has the most gorgeous face

Deep blue-green eyes and a sparkling smile

Bathed in rich brown skin, holding the miracle of life itself within her

Her beauty cannot be improved by anything man-made

To thrive, she needs only to be loved by those she loves unconditionally, by us

This is her divine lesson of self-love

Caring for the Earth is caring for ourselves

We spring forth from the Earth’s womb, are nourished by her breast, and remain connected to her indefinitely by an unbreakable umbilical cord

Though we mistreat you, we love you and we need you, Mama

You are the only oasis in the vast desert of the universe

We feel calm and content when we are close to you, Mama

Words are not your language

We must show our love for you through actions

Spending quality time with you

Living simply and sustainably

Voting with every transaction

Passing legislation to protect you from destruction by our hands

We have injured you too many times in the name of profit Mama, which only robs ourselves of true wealth: clean air, water and soil

We can’t buy more of you in any store, Mama

When we hurt you, we hurt ourselves more

You wait patiently for us to learn, even as we pillage and burn

You demonstrate how to love more completely, Mama, but that does not excuse our transgressions

This Earth Day, may we pause for reflection on our self-centered predilection

May we hold you in the center of our heart, where you always belonged from the start

Though at times we get distracted, more of your children are treading softly on you each day, Mama

May I be one such child of the Earth, and help others so inspired do the same

Your health depends on what we do today

May we lift our faces to you and see our collective dream come true

Samurai

Before I knew how to love,

I freely offered up my heart

Blind shot in the dark

I was the one who dropped my heart on the floor

From my open hands

Not knowing that I had smashed through a door

Not knowing what I would gain

Not knowing what I could never lose

No one seemed to notice, no one intervened

As I set out on my own

Lifting the veil, stepping through the screen

It wasn’t easy

I made every possible mistake

Burning my fire to fulfill other people’s desires

I was able to do everything and anything,

Because I already felt dead

From the heartbreak which split and throbbed in my head

I flipped circus tricks in the strangest of beds

Unscripted, I drifted

I met so many people

I worshipped under unconventional steeples

Life is my book, my science, my art

It all started when I sacrificed my heart

Everyday I learn how to love more

Love myself, my life, my family

Love even the dregs of humanity

Those who have yet to wander away from themselves

Those who have yet to realize who they really are

Because they cling so tightly to their identity

I’m privileged to live like a Samurai; at once warrior, servant, and free

Labels

Labels

I was labeled cute

I was labeled sweet

I was labeled shy

My anxiety and depression went unrecognized, intentionally overlooked by those with the power to help me when I was a child. My social anxiety drove me to act as anyone but myself.

My parents had not accepted and confronted their own anxiety and depression, and they trained me to follow their approach to life: suppress your feelings, be only what others want you to be.

I was labeled smart.

I was labeled hard working.

I was responsible.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve carried the weight of the world on my shoulders. I took responsibility for everyone else’s feelings. I took care of other children when I was still a child myself.

I was labeled a slut and a tramp by teenage girls.

I was labeled a tease by teenage boys.

I didn’t know how to say no, I didn’t know how to not lose myself in the desires of others.

Sometimes I was glad for the non-verbal language of physical affection, although I was just as incompetent at saying ‘no’ physically as I was verbally.

I was labeled an escort, a call girl, though I was just trying to make ends meet, girl.

I was labeled a graduate, with latin honors.

Though I worked as a prostitute, survived unnumbered abusive relationships, including the abusive relationship with myself, now they call me doctor.

What my patients don’t know is how much I’m still learning everyday- learning how to take care of myself as I ask them to take care of themselves.

In my daily practice of being my best self, I practice un-labeling through non-judgement.

Labels limit our minds.

Labels snap a stagnant picture from the moving scene, robbing us of the limitless possibilities of the present.

My Yoga Teacher

My yoga teacher said

May you live in the heart
May you light up the dark
May you live in the now
May you flow with the Tao
May you bless up
And never come down

My yoga teacher said,
‘Our generation is the smartest one yet, we have all the information we could ever need at our fingertips, yet we still aren’t enlightened- we can’t take 3 steps without melting down’.

True, however:

What I wanted to say to my yoga teacher after class, but didn’t due to my lingering shyness was that we are in the process of becoming enlightened, and yoga teachers are an important part of the sacred process of enlightening others, whether they realize it or not:

One by one, enlightened people share their light with others
As if passing a flame from candle to candle
The glow grows without end, multiplying infinitely.

Sharing our inner light with our fellow beings does not diminish our own glow, but builds a safety net in case our own flame is temporarily blown out- we have a friendly neighbor with a bright source to rekindle us again.

Because we have paid it forward, we have propagated a culture of generosity and abundance.

Let your light shine.

Yoga is a key part of my healing journey. It has changed my relationship with myself and with the world.

To my yoga teacher, I bow in deep gratitude for how they share their light with the world.

To all teachers everywhere across time and space; thank you, and namaste.